


Victory

by Taelala



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 19:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17752277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taelala/pseuds/Taelala
Summary: Kurt impulsively kisses Dave, at a very very bad time.





	Victory

Kurt barely had time to register the number on the scoreboard before a roar of cheers and screams drowned out his thoughts. One moment all he heard was a pounding in his head, and the next was like standing by a passing train. A sort of senseless euphoria trickled through him, cold and hot, like raindrops dripping through his body. He lifted his helmet off just as someone (Puck?) slammed into him in what was almost a hug. Only half-processing the moment, Kurt barely lifted his arms to hug back before the person was gone on to someone else.

He spun (it felt like the world was spinning around him in slow motion) towards the crowd. People were on their feet, jumping, screaming, while instruments blared from the band at the base of stands. A celebration of victory; the victory he had been involved in. He stared in wonder at the people who were celebrating him. The slow motion became slower - like the world was beginning to press on the brakes.

The Cheerios were streaming out onto the field, pompoms and ponytails bouncing everywhere. Quinn left him a drive-by kiss on the cheek as she went past. Kurt’s eyes followed her for a moment and then transferred to Santana, who leapt onto David Karofsky, legs wrapping around his chest as she jerked around violently, one fist punching the air, and cheered. Brittany wasn’t far behind and with a joyful smile she stretched her arms around both of them and leaned her head on Dave’s arm. David just stood there, in disbelief of their triumph, looking around him. After a moment Santana released him to tackle Brittany to the ground.

The whole field was a sea of high-fives and chest bumps, players shifting and moving in and out of Kurt’s line of vision as his eyes stayed on Karofsky. Finn caught David in a bro-hug and released him just as quickly, causing him to turn slightly as he pulled away. David started, slowly, to grin. Kurt could watch the realization that they had won the damn game dawning on him bit by bit. His eyes (sparkling) caught Kurt’s and his expression shifted the tiniest bit as he gave Kurt a beaming smile and a nod of approval before looking away. The motion was beautiful in its simplicity, after all the complication that they had endured. There was no hatred in it, no confusion, no fear, and no longer any trace of guilt for past mistakes.

Later, Kurt would blame the whole thing on adrenaline and the thrill of victory. It wasn’t entirely false in fact - he could feel it all surging through him in a way that left him dizzy and delirious. He’d never been high, but this must be something akin to it. The bright lights and unceasing roar created a surreal fantasy world that pulled him away from the safe and familiar.

He could see David’s hair was dripping with sweat and moisture was beading on his face, his mouth now only slightly open but quirked up into a smile even through his heavy breathing. He held his helmet by the grill in one of his hands, having somehow kept hold of it through Santana’s assault, and his fingers were now curled only weakly around the bars.

Kurt hadn’t realized he was walking (floating, the magic of this parallel world urging people unknowingly out of his path) until his was close enough to see the floodlights glistening in David’s curious eyes. He hadn’t realized he wasn’t breathing until he took in a gasp that somehow seemed to drown out the noise of the revelers until their screams no longer reached his ears and all was silence. He hadn’t realized he was reaching out until his hand was rested on the back of David’s neck.

David, as high as Kurt, didn’t react to the contact even as Kurt dragged him down. Their lips were salty from sweat, warm and wet. Kurt suckled a bit on David’s bottom lip and was faintly aware of the soft -thud- of a helmet landing on the ground just beside them.

As Kurt leaned back, he didn’t remove his hand, and for a long moment David still didn’t react. Then, ever so slowly, his smile fell.

“Kurt.” He sounded… horrified.

Kurt waited for the vision to end, waited for the sound of celebration to return and pull him out of this uncalled-for fantasy. When the cheers did not begin again, he realized his mistake.

It wasn’t a trick of magic. The crowd had fallen stone silent.

He could feel all eyes on him and it suddenly seemed very difficult to pull oxygen from the air around him. His hand weakly fell away from David’s neck, but even as it did David caught it and clutched it tightly.

Kurt’s voice was frantic. “What are you doing?”

“Holding your hand.” The words came so steady, so solid, Kurt thought they might knock him off his feet. It had to be a symptom of the high. Surely David would shatter and fall before his eyes at any moment.

Before he could, Kurt felt a hand on his back and Finn’s voice hissed in his ear. “Come on, before anyone does anything stupid.”

“Now,” Puck urged from behind David.

Kurt gave David’s hand a hard squeeze and tried not to look up from the turf as they hurried towards the locker rooms. Finn on one side, Puck on the other, and Azimio clearing a path ahead. Just outside the door he felt his father’s hand clap his shoulder as he followed them in.

They passed the trophy case and Kurt wondered if anyone would ever look at their championship trophy and remember anything other than the kiss two young boys shared moments after it was won.


End file.
